Sleeping and Pasta
by thatcrazygingernerdgirl
Summary: On a sunny afternoon of failed training, The Axis Powers decide to have a rest, not knowing they soon have company. Just fluff, my first Hetalia fic, please review!


"Ah, at last," Italy sighed to himself and huddled behind the tree. After cautiously scanning the area, and being satisfied by seeing Germany in deep conversation with Japan, Italy scrabbled about in the dirt and roots at the foot of the tree, and grinned as his fingernails came into contact with a hard, plastic box. He couldn't let Germany see he'd deserted his thirty press ups for the sake of hunger. He pulled it up from the ground and blew the remaining soil from it before opening the lid eagerly. Some plain, cooked pasta filled the box and Italy licked his lips as the smell of it wafted under his nose. For some reason, he didn't care it was a box of plain, dry and dull pasta, it was still extremely appetising to him. Pasta was his true passion, so whatever size, shape or form was delicious to him, no matter what. He put a few pieces in his mouth, chewing it happily. Italy was so absorbed in his food; he did not notice the heavy, plodding footsteps, slowly advancing behind him. It was only when he could feel the angry breathing of his larger ally, condensate on the back of his neck, did he realise he was not alone.

"ITALY!" Germany roared. "WHAT ZE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?!" Italy winced, his hair being blown back from his face.

"I-I'ma so sorry, Germany! I didn'ta think you woulda notice me…" he said lamely. Germany shook his head, his expression dark.

"Press ups? What about ze press ups, huh?" He asked, still red faced. Italy grinned nervously and saluted him.

"Righta on it, sir!" he squeaked, and flung his pasta to one side, dropping into pathetic press ups.

"EINS!" yelled Germany, thinking he was encouraging the smaller country. He put a heavy booted foot on his bony back. "ZWEI! DREI!" Italy moaned and mumbled weak insults as he pushed him self up off the grass and then wincing and as lowered himself back down again, resisting the urge to fall flat on his face. A couple of metres away, Japan opened his eyes after reading the atmosphere, sensing something, or someone was angry. He turned his head slightly, and saw the large country bellowing at the smaller one, and stifled a laugh.

"Hey, Germany!" he called, walking over slowly. "Why don't you give Itary a rest? He's trying very hard, and it's extremry hot," Japan wiped a bead of sweat from under his fringe. Germany stared at the sprawling mess of spindly limbs on the floor and sighed.

"Alright, alright," he put a hand to his forehead. "Get up, Italy." Italy sat up dazedly, wiping the dirt from his face. Japan neatly sat down on a tree root, so as not to get his crisp uniform dirty and draped his jacket over his shoulders. "I think we shourd arr just sit and rest for a whire, hai?" The other two nodded. The sun was blazing and the sky was clear, making them feel hazy and sleepy. Italy yawned rubbed at the back of his head. He scooted himself over to where Germany was sat with his knees up to his chest and stretched his arms out.

"You know, I coulda just fall asleep-" he went to lean onto Germany but was stopped by a rough hand pushing his face away. Italy pouted.

"No," Germany rolled his eyes and wrapped his arms around his legs, shifting over, onto his side. "Not a chance." Italy pulled a hurt face, and went to turn onto his side, before realising that Japan had slumped onto the grass beside him, and off the tree root. Momentarily surprised, he went to shake Germany nervously, but then realised that blonde had dozed off. He turned quickly back to Japan and saw that he also, was asleep, his chest rising and falling rhythmically, his mouth open slightly.

"Hey, it sure doesn't take long for you old countries to sleep, huh?" he asked the afternoon air. "I thought I was the lazy one!" Italy shrugged and then lay down in the middle of his allies, stretching out like a cat. He liked it being like this, when fighting was forgotten, and they could just be three friends, on a sunny afternoon, sleeping in the shade of an oak tree.

"Hey! Hey, dudes! Come look!" America snorted. England, Russia, China and France rushed over.

"What is it, America?" snapped England, not pleased after running for several minutes in the sweltering heat, in a thick military uniform. America snorted again and pointed to sleeping threesome at their feet, gathered around the bottom of the tree.

"Hah, look!" he laughed, clutching his stomach. The others sighed.

"Aw, let them rest," said France. "You wouldn't be too impressed if zey came and woke you up, would you, non?"

"Huh, you Western countries, always in a hurry, You all need to learn what it's like to be calm, for once-aru." said China, his hands on his hips, brow furrowed. America shrugged and adjusted his glasses.

"I don't know," he said indignantly, brushing non existent dirt off his jacket. "I'm not the kind of person that falls asleep in weird places. And what are you talking about, I'm the King of Calm!" he said hotly.

"Hm, I bed to differ," muttered England, quiet enough so America didn't hear, but loud enough so the rest of the Allies did. "I must say, you do come across as a bit of an idiotic five year old on a sugar high." The sarcasm was evident to the others, but seemed to zoom right over America's head.

"Huh? You say something, England?" he asked brightly. England smiled smugly.

"No, I'm sorry. You must be hearing things." America shrugged and yawned in spite of himself; his jacket was cooking him and making him feel tired.

China and Russia flopped down onto the warm grass, yawning themselves, and stretched out.

"It's comfy," said Russia, crossing his legs. "Very nice. Come and sit?" he patted the grass next to him, by Japan's feet. France smiled and shrugged.

"Why not?" he said and sat down in the space, flopping his hair over his shoulder. China leant back on the grass, his arms crossed behind his head.

"Come on, England, America-aru!" he said, waggling a finger at them. "Don't be spoilsports." Russia pulled his scarf a littler looser around his neck and put it over his face, to keep out the sun's rays.

"Is nice!" he repeated, though rather muffled. England put his pockets and turned to America.

"You know what they say," he nodded at America. "If you can't beat 'em, join 'em." Rather slower than the others, he eased himself onto the grass, stretching out so everything clicked. He smiled in relief and cocked his head at America. The younger country stood firm.

"I think there's some work we should be do- Heeeey!" France had grabbed his arm and pulled him down.

"It's not like this everyday, make the most of it!" He half scolded and leant against the tree root, eyes shut. America sighed.

"Sitting down like this isn't very heroic!" he protested. "We could be off fighting now, against lowly countries, we could be-" he looked around, and then stopped, hearing nothing but soft snores and mumbles. The Axis _and _The Allies had all fallen asleep in the hot afternoon sun; he was talking to himself.


End file.
